Matt Dillon's Beginnings
by Vess
Summary: Starting before birth up till he goes to Dodge
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimers Apply. Ya can't get blood out of a turnip.

A/N: This idea wouldn't leave me alone so here is a little background for Matt. Another series in away leading up to A New Gunsmoke. This is starting with James, Matt's father first.

Chapter 1

The grass was once again was dry and straw like. Sighing heavily, Joseph Dillon attacked the ground with his rake, just like he did every morning. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the early morning sun beginning to rise already. He stopped what he was doing for a moment; he raised his right hand to his face to shield the morning rays from his blue eyes. He squinted too. The wrinkles around his eyes showing now more than in previous years. He was a forty two year old man. Not old, by any means but becoming too damn old to tend to the farm by himself.

The farm was one of the largest in the surrounding Ohio area. It had been in his family since before 1803 and he intended to keep it in the family. His wife Mary Kate had died some years before, Joseph himself wasn't sure how many years it had been. Or at least that's what he liked people to think. Trust be told, he hadn't allowed himself to think of Mary Kate for some time. He had thrown himself into raising their only son James who was now fifteen. He would make sure the lad was raised just how Mary Kate would have wanted him to be raised and he was turning into a fine young boy. He looked after the farm well and showed interest in taking over when Joseph was too old to. He also encouraged James to attend the local dances where the girls in the surrounding areas would gather on a Sunday evening. He wished for James to marry someday and have a house full of sons worthy to take on the hard graft of the farm. But for now it was just those two; father and son.

Dragging the rake across the dry grass, Joseph felt his back begin to pull. Damn, I'm not as young as I used to be. He cursed under his breathe. But still he knew he had jobs to be done before the sun came up fully and his son awoke and started work on the ranch. They had plans to also build a station for the sheep to live. But that required yet more pairs of hands and more money for Joseph to pay out. The work was never ending. But he wouldn't have it any other way. Someday he vowed to make James the proud owner of the largest farm in the state.

A horse neighed loudly in the distance and Joseph smiled to himself. The familiar thumping of boots came from the house and he turned to see him son grinning at him. He was around six foot three already to say he was still at such a tender age. He was the mirror image of his mother. His face...Mary Kate's eyes...but yet he had the same ways of Joseph at his age. He too had been an only child...a boy. He had been bought up on the same farm and loved every moment of his childhood. In a way when he looked out at the land, he pictured himself as that fifteen year old boy James was now, the years seem to melt away. He remembered the crisp evening back in July of 1797 when he had met Mary Kate at the barn dance. How they had danced all evening and when he left with her that night he knew he would marry her.

''Not long before that lambs born.'' James joined his father in the field. There was one rake, but James used his hands to clear the field. They had spent the last few days trying to unblock the route of a spring which led to the sheep, they used it to drink but the grass had blocked its path and they were now parched.

''Aye, any day now lad.'' Joseph spoke proudly. Three of their sheep were due any time but one in particular was becoming more and more vocal about their discomfort and by the feel of her sides she was contracting.

''I'll go check by breakfast.'' James volunteered. Standing up straight he shook his overly long chocolate colored hair from his eyes and stretched, feeling the discomfort of sleeping in that damn iron bed again. With the lambs been due any day, Joseph and James had took it in turns sleeping with the sheep to make sure every thing was fine and the offspring were delivered in the safest possible way.

The distance of the farm wasn't staggering. Just around twenty miles wide. Their home was forty miles away from any sort of civilization. The only settlement was Twin Falls, a town which houses the Sunday market and of course the church which Joseph and his son attended each Sunday morning.

The cemetery where his wife was buried lay beyond the gardens of the house by the willow littered banks of the creek, bounded by a white painted picket fence railing. The grass was green even during the droughts which they had frequently encounter.

Joseph handed James the rake which he had been using solidly since the first signs of sunlight. ''Here son, you give this a go.'' James took it, before dragging it across the grass as violently as he could. Joseph watched, shaking his head. He was a determined boy; he showed great passion in whatever he did.

Despite feeling the ache in his body, James continued. He knew the lamb would be born any time and the sheep needed the water. ''We have the horses to feed, the chickens to see to and then the dogs. We'll go hunting after dark when the rabbits are out.''

James half listened to his father.

''Then of course there's the fence to fix, the sheep to round up and then wait for that lamb to arrive.'' Joseph continued as he wondered towards the house. The sun was now almost fully up, bright and beaming and already red hot. Joseph propped himself up on the fence, leaning as he placed his cap on his head. He was ready for the day ahead.

Running water could be heard coming from the creek and he found his sons figure in the distance, he had thrown the rake on the floor, raising his arms in the air in celebration. 'Woohoo!'' He called. Joseph felt a smile cross his face. ''That's my boy.'' He whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Standard disclaimers Apply**_

_**A/N: Still building.**_

_**Chapter 2**_

There was just one candle in the room but it was enough light for him to see. James Dillon, shakily rummaging around in his pack, until found what he was looking for, what he looked at night after night. He pulled out the paper with the ad printed in it.

He had slept in the iron bed which was in the barn with the lambs since they had been born the Monday previous, his father had volunteered but if truth be told he liked it in there. He had grown used to the smell a long while ago. He liked to be by himself and indulge himself in his dreams.

Sitting cross legged on the dirty wooden floor of the barn, he stared at it. It sounded like heaven to him. He hate to farm for as long as he could remember and he had hidden it well from his father. On days when he ran errands in town he'd do a few odd jobs, anywhere from .10 cents to a quarter sometimes he even got a gold dollar. He then put the money away safely, away from his own reach and his fathers knowledge.

He had kept a small fund for when he felt ready to break the news to his father. James was only fifteen but he knew what he wanted to do in life, to get out of Ohio and pursue his dreams of being something other than a farmer. The only downside was breaking the news to his father who had high hopes of him taking over the land when he passed. The candle cast an eerie glow in the room; it was silence except for the small creaks of the wooden floor or a tired bleat from a lamb. Some of them had been rejected by their mother, but James had taken on the job of feeding them by hand and they had thrived.

He picked up the small but rather firm piece of straw and started to etch out a drawling in the dirt. Sitting with straw in hand, he waited for some sort of inspiration to come to him. But...nothing. He sighed heavily. Did he have too much on his mind? He usually drew what he wanted, but lately he had visions of dark things in his head. But he dismissed it as bad dreams, they had been busy lately with the new lambs and the water blockage at least now he maybe able to relax a little. He yawned heavily; he threw the straw onto the ground a simple slap-board house a little peeved. Maybe he should get some sleep; he and his father were heading into Twin Falls the next day for some supplies. He was hoping he could sneak away to purchase some supplies when his father wasn't watching.

It wasn't a cold night but it wasn't warm either. Climbing into bed, James pulled the thick layer of blankets up to his chest before resting his head on both his hands whilst laid on his back. He glanced at the ceiling, seeing a few small cracks. If his father had been here, he would be listing the jobs which needed to be done in the barn. The cracks needed filling and the floor replacing but James didn't have a worry in the world, it was something his Mother had taught him from early on. James didn't allow thoughts of his mother to pass through his mind. He loved his father so dearly, perhaps because he was the only family he had. Since his mother died, he had learned to cope on his own. His eyelids felt heavy, he didn't realize just how tired he actually was and within minutes he was fast asleep.

****Matt****

By the time the summer had come, the jobs on the farm were coming in thick and fast. The days were never long enough and jobs had to be left undone. If it wasn't tending to the animals, it was mending the roofs or draining the water for the sheep to be able to drink. To say there wasn't enough hands was an understatement. Joseph thought of hiring help, but could he afford it?

One day Joseph was cleaning out the small room off the side of the barn and he found a tin can full of money and a slip of a newspaper clipping. There was only one person other than himself that the can belonged to: James.

Joseph was hurt and stunned to say the least in finding the clipping for land in a place they were calling Texas. It hurt to know his son didn't want to take over the farm that had been in the family for years. When Joseph's grandfather had come to settle the great wilderness, the land hadn't been meant to take a plow, but years of trying were starting to pay off a little but they were still penniless.

"Pa, have you seen…" James started as he walked into the little room. He froze at the sight of his father holding the tin can in one hand the ad in the other. "Pa, I was…"

"Why," Joseph asked.

James stared at his father. That one word was enough to cause him to wince. He knew with that one word he had broken his father's heart. It was his father's dream for him to take over the farm but it wasn't his dream. He wanted to explore and find a place to build a home on his own just like his grandfather did when he left Huntington, Virginia.

"James, answer me why," Joseph repeated.

"There's got to be more than just farming Pa. I want to go and explore and find out who I am. I want to make a name for myself, prove myself…" James stammered out knowing each word was like a knife into his father's heart.

Joseph only nodded his head. He understood wanting to prove himself and wanting to go exploring to find the life for himself. He had done that himself but he had brothers to help run the farm where as James did not. "I understand son, I understand," Joseph said clasping a big callused hand on his son's shoulder, as he looked at the ad again. Texas the land filled with opportunities and adventures was the life his son wanted, not being stuck on a farm that was barely getting by.


End file.
